Spinoza's view of the Bible

Apropos my recent interchanges with some "Bible-believing Christians," I was struck by a paragraph in Chapter 7 of Antonio R. Damasio's book I quoted from yesterday:

For the [kind of salvation accessible to all through living "a virtuous life in a virtuous civitas, obedient to the rules of a democratic state and mindful of God's nature, somewhat indirectly, with the help of some of the Bible's wisdom"], Spinoza rejects biblical narratives as God's revelation, but endorses the wisdom embodied in the historical figures of Moses and Christ. Spinoza saw the Bible as a repository of valuable knowledge regarding human conduct and civil organization. [p. 274]

    Spinoza, this atheist with respect to the God of Abraham, was nevertheless plugging the Bible as a force for good in human affairs! (I wonder what the past two thousand years would have been like without the Bible. Too bad that that experiment can't be conducted.) The endnote was even more striking:

Here are Spinoza's words from A Theologico-political Treatise, 1670 (R. H. M. Elwes translation): "Before I go further I would expressly state (though I have said it before) that I consider the utility and the need for Holy Scripture or Revelation to be very great. For as we cannot perceive by the natural light of reason that simple obedience is the path of salvation, and are taught by revelation only that it is so by the special grace of God, which our reason cannot attain, it follows that the Bible has brought a very great consolation to mankind. All are able to obey, whereas there are but very few, compared with the aggregate of humanity, who can acquire the habit of virtue under the unaided guidance of reason. Thus if we had not the testimony of Scripture, we should doubt of the salvation of nearly all men."
    This deeply felt attitude gives the lie to the caricatures of Spinoza as the devil incarnate. Late Spinoza advised those around him, who were mostly Christian, to remain within their church, largely the Protestant church. He urged children to attend Mass, and he himself heard sermons by Colerus, the Lutheran pastor who moved into the house Spinoza once rented in the Stilleverkade and became first his friend, then his biographer. Spinoza did not have faith in a provident God or in eternal life, but he never mocked the faith of others. In fact, Spinoza was extremely careful with the faith of the unlearned. He only discussed religion with his intellectual colleagues....[p. 330]

That stung me into self-awareness. As I was mocking my colleagues' religious beliefs last week, I knew I was doing it and didn't like that I was doing it, but I felt a sort of compulsion to proceed. I'd like to think now that if I'd read this from Damasio beforehand, I'd have held back, tried to emulate Spinoza. What was my need to not just smile and ignore their "sales pitches" but to ridicule and demean them? Why did I need to do that?
    I knew that I was being potentially hurtful; I had no sense that anything good for them could come from my responding as I did. I was vaunting something of my own, at their expense. They obviously feel they need their scriptures to live their virtuous lives (in Spinozian terms, if not in theirs); I don't think I need them to live mine.
    If I will criticize religion, let me not do it in such personal terms. Or, if I must discuss religion with its adherents, let me moderate my tone, be more civil, more forbearing. Like me, they too (I must assume) are doing the best they can.